


The Claim

by jane_x80



Series: Couples Therapy [13]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s01e13 One Shot One Kill, Established Relationship, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they have successfully stopped the sniper in s01e13 One Shot One Kill, Gibbs goes to Tony's apartment only to find that Tony is furious with him. He has to fix this before things escalate.</p><p>Spoilers for s01e13 One Shot One Kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching S1 and S2 episodes trying to find the perfect one for what I have in mind, and what I found is that I could use just about any of them! So I'm starting a little mini-arc in S1, picking and choosing some episodes for each fic, leading up to where I want to go. I've decided to treat each episode in a separate story rather than making a larger multi-chapter fic. They should all kind of stand alone anyway. This one has 2 chapters and deals with s01e13.
> 
> For this one, I started obsessing about the fact that Tony was mad that Gibbs took his Kevlar off while in the recruitment office. He said he was going to kill him himself.
> 
> So yeah. Obviously there will be spoilers for this episode.

When Gibbs unlocked Tony’s door and silently walked in, the apartment was pitch black. He flipped the switch and the lights flickered on, revealing the man sitting on his expensive sofa, a frown creasing his brow.

“Hey,” Gibbs said uncertainly. They’d had a long day, and Tony had ended up shooting and killing their sniper, Kyle Hendricks. It wasn’t the first time Tony had had to use lethal force to subdue a criminal, but all the other times had not resulted in DiNozzo sitting quietly in the dark. He was an experienced cop and federal agent, and had his coping mechanisms for all fatalities and injuries that he’d directly or indirectly caused. So Gibbs wasn’t sure what was going on in Tony’s head tonight.

“Turn the light off,” the younger man growled, squinting and blinking at him.

Gibbs flipped the switch off and shut and locked the door behind him. He waited for his eyes to adjust. Tony’s apartment had lovely picture windows that usually let in ambient DC street lights but tonight, Tony had drawn his special blackout shades, blinds that let not even a tiny bit of light in.

“Migraine?” Gibbs asked, lowering his voice.

Tony grunted, an indecipherable response. Gibbs toed his shoes off, and in the darkness, quietly put his keys in the bowl on the table by the front door, and his service weapon and backup into the carved wooden box on the shelf. He could feel Tony’s weapons already safely in the box.

“Take your meds?” Gibbs asked, again keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

Another noncommittal grunt.

Gibbs made his way to the sofa by memory – he has walked this path in the dark many a time – and knelt on the floor in front of the younger man. “Why aren’t you in bed, passed out on your migraine meds?” he asked gently. “Sorry it got so late. I went home first, thinking you’d be there. And Fornell was there to crow about the FBI hogging the credit for today. Took me a while to get rid of him.”

“Go home,” Tony whispered angrily at him.

Gibbs’ eyes were adjusting better now and he could just barely make out Tony’s expression. “What?” he says, stunned by the anger that he saw.

“Go. Home.” Tony said, enunciating his words carefully. “Leave.”

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck. He decided to ignore this. He could tell that Tony had not taken his meds. He stood, walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door slightly, using the muted light from the fridge to illuminate the kitchen enough to grab a glass and fill it with water. He brought the glass over to the side table and went to the bathroom to get the migraine meds, bringing both the pills and the injections, unsure which Tony would need tonight.

“Take your meds. Get in bed. Then I’ll go home,” he told the younger man.

“Fuck you.”

“Honey…” Gibbs breathed, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “The fuck is going on?”

“I don’t have any right to be mad, I know,” Tony bites out in a hoarse whisper. “It’s our job to put ourselves in harm’s way to catch bad guys. I get that. But you took your fucking vest off!” Migraine or no migraine, Tony yelled the last sentence, his suppressed anger finally erupting. “You took your goddamned vest off, Jethro! Are you _trying_ to die? Huh? Is that what you were trying to do today?”

Gibbs stared at him, openmouthed. “That’s what this is about?”

“It’s bad enough that it had to be _you_ out there, sitting in the fucking store window, just daring this psychopath to take sniper potshots at you! But you had to go and _take your fucking vest off_??” Tony roughly shoved Gibbs’ chest, punctuating each of his last few words with a shove. “And where the fuck was _I_? On a fucking telephone pole dressed like a goddamned Village Person! Or blocks away waiting for Abby to triangulate the shot so I can hunt that cocksucker down, while you could be lying dead in that recruitment office! Because you, you _motherfucker_ , took your vest off?”

“Tony…”

“Don’t you fucking ‘Tony’ me. Get the hell out. You’ve made your fucking point. I’m emotionally stunted and not worth your time. I know I have no claim on you. I’m just the guy you send out there to run down the assholes who jackrabbit or go after the snipers that lie in wait for you in fucking book depositories! I’m like a goddamned hunting dog. I’m not even allowed to stay on your six to make sure you’re OK. Even though that’s what I’m _supposed_ to do. And god knows, I’m not allowed to make a fuss if you do stupid things or take uncalled for chances. Right? I’m not someone who matters to you because if I did, then you would have kept your vest on!”

“It was showing through the uniform, honey.”

“Kate’s uniform was much snugger and _she_ kept her fucking vest on.”

“He was going for a head shot anyway,” Gibbs tried to reason, while he tamped down the hot stab of jealousy at the fact that Tony had noticed the fit of Kate’s tight uniform top.

Tony roared in frustration and picked up the glass, poised to throw it against the wall.

Gibbs snatched it out of his hands, water splashing down his hand. “Don’t throw that. It’s one of your mother’s,” he said, putting it out of reach.

Abruptly, Tony’s anger dissipated and he collapsed bonelessly back into the sofa, eyes screwed shut, whimpering in pain.

“Honey…” Gibbs whispered softly. “Come on. Let’s take your meds and get you to bed and we can talk about this in the morning when you’re feeling better. OK?” He shook a couple of tablets out from the prescription bottle and put them in his hand, along with the glass.

Fingers trembling, Tony downed the meds with a couple of mouthfuls of water and handed the glass back to Gibbs. The stabbing pain in his eye was relentless and swallowing the pills aggravated his nausea. He tried to get up and stumble to the sink in the kitchen, Gibbs supporting one arm, but didn’t make it in time, leaning over and vomiting on the living room floor. The resulting burst of pain in his head was excruciating and he sagged into Gibbs’ arms.

The older man dragged him into the bedroom, gently laid him down on the bed, and stripped his clothes off. He turned the little light on in the bathroom, leaving the door cracked to give him the tiniest sliver of light and he went and got a pre-filled, individually packaged syringe from the living room. Without preamble, he unsealed the syringe, tearing the package with his teeth, tore the alcohol swab open, rubbed it on Tony’s ass and efficiently injected him. The motion was a practiced one, obviously something he has had to do many times before. He stayed, holding the young man’s hand until his body slowly unclenched. Gradually, Tony stopped whimpering in pain and slowly fell asleep. He maneuvered the covers out from under his drugged up boyfriend and carefully covered his still form, leaning down and dropping a kiss on one exposed shoulder. Touching Tony anywhere in the head would hurt him, so he rubbed Tony’s back gently.

He disposed of the syringe appropriately, gently wiped Tony’s body down with a cool damp cloth, and put Tony’s clothes into the laundry basket. He cleaned up the mess in the living room, noting that it was mostly bile. Tony hadn’t eaten much that day. None of them had.

It had been a rough couple of days. But even so, there had been some good times. He smiled, remembering their conversation in the building that the sniper had taken his first shot from. He’d teased him about the smell of the place, that it had been like the smell of Tony’s apartment – obviously a facetious comment. Tony was the neatest and most fastidious person that he knew. Tony’d quipped that he finally got a maid. What made Gibbs nearly laugh out loud was the fact that Tony had had to fire his cleaning lady not two weeks ago because he thought that she wasn’t doing as good a job as he was scrubbing his apartment clean.

He’d enjoyed working alone with his young man again that day. Although Kate was working out – much better than Vivian had – and she was fitting in nicely with their team, he missed the dynamic that they’d had when it had been just the two of them. He’d also been better able to care for Tony then, making sure he got adequate food and rest. But with Kate there, they had stepped up their routine of maintaining their public and professional fronts at work even more carefully. So yes, Gibbs missed being able to openly horse around with Tony more. And having Kate on the team meant that he often paired them up together to conduct portions of the investigation. God knew, Tony was much more patient and better at training probie agents than he was. But this gave him much more time alone than he would have liked. He’d gotten too used to working exclusively with Tony and the months of Kate being on the team was still something that he was adjusting to.

He stood and looked at the man lying so still on the bed. His beautiful lover did occasionally get these awful migraines and since he hated asking for help, he always ended up needing Gibbs’ help, which only made him even more determined to be independent. Despite his happy go lucky façade, Tony was a prickly, prickly man. Sighing, he went through his night time routine and crawled into bed, slipping under the covers and spooning his body right up against Tony’s back, carefully sliding one arm under his pillow and the other around his waist, cradling the younger man gently.

“Sorry, honey,” he whispered softly. “Love you.”

He laid awake for a while, thinking about the case, thinking about the vest he’d taken off, running his hand up and down Tony’s flank, his nostrils filling with Tony’s familiar and comforting scent. But somewhere along there, almost against his will, he relaxed and fell asleep, holding him close.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Tony’s alarm went off in the morning, he slapped it off and gingerly sat up. His head was still pounding, but the stabbing pain and nausea were gone, leaving behind only a slight sensitivity to light. He realized that someone had left the bathroom light on and the door slightly ajar, gently illuminating the bedroom.

“Here,” a coffee cup was thrust into his face and he jumped, squeaking in surprise.

He looked up, frowning at Gibbs. “I thought I told you to leave,” he said, disgruntled.

“Take the coffee.”

Sighing, Tony grasped the mug of coffee and inhaled deeply, taking comfort in its familiar aroma, wishing his head would stop pounding. An open palm bearing two tablets appeared in front of his face. His migraine tablets. He downed the tablets with swallows of coffee and sighed.

“You OK for work today?” Gibbs asked softly, still keeping his volume low.

“Never better.”

“Ducky would…”

“I’m fine, Jethro,” Tony interrupted.

Gibbs nodded, sitting down on the bed, sipping his own mug of coffee. He put a hand on Tony’s thigh. “You want to talk about last night?”

“Nope.”

Gibbs looked into Tony’s eyes, seeing only stubbornness and intractability. “You said some interesting things last night.”

“Did I?”

“Honey…”

“Nope. I’m going to shower.”

“Give the meds a chance to kick in before you get up.”

Tony glared at him, hating how well he knew him. He breathed out a long sigh, leaned back against the headboard with his eyes closed, and sipped his coffee. Gibbs had made it just the way he liked it – not Marine strong, and with hazelnut syrup, cream and sugar.

“You’re not my hunting dog,” Gibbs told him.

“I thought we weren’t talking about last night.”

“You might not want to. But I do.”

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.

“Just listen then,” Gibbs said. He waited until Tony was silent, bleary green eyes turned to him. “Good. You’re not my hunting dog. I don’t just sic you on suspects who run, and I didn’t make you stay out there waiting for Abby’s information for no reason. I needed you out there because I knew you’d find him and take him down. You’re the only one I trust for that.”

Tony rolled his eyes again.

“You _were_ on my six. You were out there making sure that he wouldn’t try to take another shot at me. Or anyone else.”

Tony’s lips turned down in a pout. “And the vest?”

Gibbs sighed. “In hindsight, that was a little shortsighted.”

“A _little_ shortsighted?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Maybe.”

Tony grunted. That was probably the closest he would come to getting an apology.

Gibbs’ warm palm began rubbing soothing circles on Tony’s thigh. “Well. I thought my reasons were good enough.”

“And now?”

“You made a good point. Kate didn’t take her vest off.”

Tony grunted. “You should have kept it on.”

“I should have kept it on,” Gibbs agreed.

“OK then.”

“We good?”

“Move your hand a little higher and you tell me.”

Gibbs stared at his boyfriend’s tented groin and looked up in shock. “Shit. A migraine and pissed off at me, and _still_?”

“What can I say? I thought we were going to have angry sex.”

“Wanna try for makeup sex instead?”

Tony looked at the clock. “Only if we do it quick. My boss hates it if I’m late to work.”

Chuckling, Gibbs took the coffee mug out of Tony’s hand, placed both their cups on the nightstand, and leaned in to kiss him, moving his hand up higher, palming the young man’s rock hard cock. He smiled at the quiet gasp, followed by his name being moaned into his mouth. “I can do quick.”

He pushed Tony down on the bed, devouring his mouth, slipping his fingers underneath the sheet and onto the young man’s cock, stroking it. Tony handed him the lube, opening his legs.

“Now,” he moaned. “Shit, now. Or I’m going to come without you.”

“Can’t have that.”

Gibbs prepared Tony efficiently, lubed his cock and drove himself into the young man, groaning at the feel of his dick enveloped in Tony’s snug heat. He began thrusting hard, angling for Tony’s prostate, the young man meeting his thrusts eagerly. He claimed Tony’s lips, feeling his balls tighten up, his muscles already bunched for release.

“God, honey. I’m so close,” he groaned. “Quick won’t be a problem,” he panted.

Tony wrapped his fingers around his own dick and began jerking himself off in time to Gibbs’ deep thrusts, moaning urgently. As Gibbs lost control, pumping himself into the younger man in short, staccato strokes, drilling his prostate hard and fast, Tony threw his head back, crying out as he climaxed, his cock spurting hot streams of cum in between their bodies, his muscles contracting around Gibbs’ dick. The older man buried himself deep and came with a shout.

When they regained their breaths, Tony smiled and kissed Gibbs. “Quick and dirty. Mmmm.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But Gibbs continued to feel uneasy for the next day or so. It wasn’t the first fight that they’d had, and he knew it certainly wouldn’t be the last one either. Tony had his volatile moments and this time, begrudgingly, Gibbs knew he had a point. It had been careless of him to take the Kevlar off. Tony had been right to be angry.

He’d told Kate he was going to kill him himself over the comm-link. Gibbs remembered that. And at the time he had thought Tony was just being his usual mouthy self to Kate. But Tony really had been furious about it.

And now something had changed between them. Even though they had made up, and Gibbs had practically apologized for taking his bulletproof vest off, something was still off. Tony seemed brittle, somehow. The young man was a consummate actor, able to hide his emotions better than anyone else that Gibbs had ever known, and trying to figure out where he was in his head was challenging on a good day. But something had shaken Tony so much that he was scrambling and backpedaling. He hadn’t been this skittish in a while. It wasn’t like they had just started seeing each other, they were well into their third year of being together. So why was Tony pulling away from him now?

Gibbs mulled it over for a day or so, trying to figure it out, watching Tony’s behavior at work, listening in on his interactions with Kate and even with Abby. But Tony wasn’t acting differently with anyone else, and at work, Tony’s interactions with Gibbs were completely normal. Which left something different happening specifically between them, outside of work.

He wracked his brain, going over their recent conversations. He sat in his basement, working on his boat as he went over Tony’s outburst after the sniper case and tried to remember exactly what Tony had said, and what they had resolved, to try to figure out what it was they had not resolved.

Finally he thought he had it. He froze in his tracks. Was that it? Did Tony actually think that?

Gibbs sighed. He needed to talk to Tony but it was 0300 and Tony was spending the night at his apartment. Not that they needed to invite each other over anymore, they’d spent the nights in each other’s beds practically every night for months, either at his house or at Tony’s apartment. But tonight it had seemed as if the young man had wanted a night alone. Tony had been putting a little distance between them since the case, and Gibbs found that he was having trouble sleeping without the young man in his bed.

He grinned to himself and shook his head at the notion of sneaking into Tony’s apartment and slipping into bed with him so he could get some sleep. Now who was the needy one? he thought. But he did miss the man. And technically, Tony hadn’t said not to come. So he put his tools away, grabbed his keys and got in his car. Tonight he would slip into bed with his boyfriend and try to get some rest.

The next night though, he had plans for the next night. He needed to get Tony out of whatever funk he had put himself in making whatever assumptions it was that he’d made after the sniper case. He thought that he had a notion of what was bugging the man and he had an idea as to what he could do to pry this information out of him, and maybe make him feel better about things.

His mind went back to the final conversation that night after Kyle Hendricks had been shot and killed by his badass boyfriend. He’d overheard Tony asking Kate what it had been like to be his superior officer, and Kate’s flippant remarks back to him. He snickered to himself, wondering what Kate would think about the fact that Tony had gone home and given him a good dressing down for taking his bulletproof vest off. Talk about who’s saluting whom. Tony had yelled at him and even screamed at him to leave. He shook his head at Tony’s behavior. So different from the laid back frat boy at work. At home he could behave any number of ways, including being intense and direct, allowing Gibbs to see the prickly Tony, not hesitating to tear him a new one if he thought it was deserved. But yet, he knew it was always done out of love. Even if the young man had never said those words to him, his actions were that of a man in love.

Gibbs knew that Tony wouldn’t be able to give him the words he longed to hear. Tony had trouble with love. He hadn’t had a lot of it growing up, and love was something he thought belonged only in movies and storybooks. They might have been seeing each other for nearly three years, but he would bet that Tony would maybe never be able to say the words to him. It would be nice to hear, he admitted to himself. But Tony was Tony and for now all he did was do things that spoke louder than any words. He knew that Tony loved him. And he loved him back.

Which was why he had to fix this rift between them. And he knew just how to do it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gibbs carries out his plan. And a conversation with Tony.
> 
> A reminder that there are spoilers for s01e13 One Shot One Kill.

When Tony walked into Gibbs’ house, he was whistling tunelessly as he took his jacket and shoes off and stowed his backpack by the stairs to take up to the bedroom later. He took his service weapon out of the shoulder holster and stuck it in the box on the mantle, but left the holster on, knowing that it turned Gibbs on to see him wear it.

He figured that Gibbs would be in the basement working on the boat, as usual. He had gone to his apartment first, packed some things, stopped for groceries, and then driven to Gibbs’ house. The older man had been sweet the previous night, showing up in the middle of the night and climbing into bed with him. He smiled thinking about the fact that he was so comfortable with Gibbs now that he didn’t even wake up when the older man slipped into the bed with him. He’d slept through the whole thing.

He tried not to think about why it was that he’d started to put walls up between them. Gibbs didn’t even know what was going on, and he knew he should just talk to the man and get it off his chest. But he couldn’t. He knew he called Gibbs a functional mute, and the man really was that at work, close-mouthed and playing his cards closer to the vest than anyone he’d ever known. But at home he’d turned out to be sweet, playful, easy to talk to, fun, and surprisingly open. And Tony found himself to be the functional mute at times – especially when it came to his feelings.

When Gibbs first gave him those most precious gifts: the bed that the man had made for him with his own two hands, and then those three little words that were so small but packed such a huge impact, he’d gone on a bender, not knowing how to handle it. Gibbs was a straight talker. If he said he loved you, then that was it. He loved you. He wasn’t the pussyfooting kind. And once he said it, he kept saying it. He kept saying it until Tony stopped twitching nervously or breaking out in hives. Until he stopped feeling nauseous when he heard the words. And then he’d kept on saying it, without ever expecting a response from him, until even Tony himself couldn’t doubt the truth of the words, couldn’t doubt that Gibbs did, in fact, love him. That first time he’d said it, the man didn’t even blink an eye to find Tony dead drunk, unable to process the words he’d heard directed towards him, much less try to come up with any kind of coherent response.

In fact, Tony still hadn’t come up with any kind of response, coherent or otherwise, and it had been over a year since Gibbs had made his declaration. One day, the man was going to tire of him and his inability to be up front with his emotions, and he would be out on his ass and alone again. He just knew it. But he still wasn’t able to tell Gibbs anything. Tony hadn’t even ever really acknowledged the fact that they had been seeing each other going on three years now. Almost as long as they’d been working together. Worse, he didn’t even know where to start. The irony wasn’t lost on him: Gibbs the functional mute was the one who’d been expressing himself with no hesitation outside of work, and he, who was known to be the talkative one had no words for Gibbs. None whatsoever. And he knew that he was hurting Gibbs with his continued silence on the matter, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

Tony sighed. Maybe it was a mistake to come over tonight, but Gibbs had come to him, not asking for anything the night before. And in the morning, when he’d woken up surprised to find himself in Gibbs’ arms, they’d made slow, sweet love in the beautiful bed that the man had lovingly made for him. Gibbs had tried to downplay why he’d come over so late, but it had been extra special to him because he knew that Gibbs hadn’t been sleeping very well without Tony in his bed. The older man had sought him out because of it. Even though Tony’d been distant and standoffish for the past few days.

Tony told himself to suck it up and make the man a nice dinner. Even if he couldn’t talk about his feelings, he was at least perfectly capable of doing things that would make Gibbs feel that he was wanted and appreciated. So he rolled up his sleeves and went in the kitchen, putting the sack of groceries that he’d brought with him on the kitchen table, and looking in Gibbs’ freezer.

He pulled out the container of his frozen amatriciana sauce and threw it in the microwave to defrost, and put a big pot of water on to boil. He rummaged around in the back of the cupboards, knowing that he’d hidden a stash of his own dried homemade pasta in an unassuming airtight container (in case Abby or Ducky came over to Gibbs’ house, he tried to downplay his presence there) and pulled the container out. Then he pre-heated the oven and made little parchment paper packets of fish – branzino en papillote, his mind supplied – flavoring the fish with fresh thyme, salt and pepper, olive oil, fresh slices of lemon, a pat of butter, and a splash of white wine. The fish sat atop a bed of haricot vert that he had seasoned very simply with salt, pepper and olive oil. He wrapped the fish carefully and placed the packets on cookie sheets.

But before he put the fish in and dropped the pasta – the rest of the meal would come together very quickly – he grabbed a couple of beers and headed down to the basement to see what Gibbs was up to and whether he was ready to eat. It wouldn’t do to overcook the delicate fish or the pasta, for that matter. To his surprise, he found the basement silent and unoccupied. Where the hell was Gibbs? His truck had been parked in the driveway so he was home.

Tony scrambled back up to the kitchen, pulling his phone from his pocket, about to dial his boyfriend’s number when he saw that the oven had been turned off, as had been the stove. The cookie sheet with his prepared fish en papillote had been put away – he checked for it and it was in the fridge.

On the kitchen table is a note in Gibbs’ handwriting:

 _Come upstairs._   
_-J_

Grinning to himself, Tony put the unopened beer bottles back into the fridge, washed his hands thoroughly and stopped in the downstairs bathroom to pee and fix his hair. He clicked the lock on the front door before he ran upstairs. If Gibbs wanted to play sex games tonight, Tony was up for it. Tony was always up for sex games. Pun intended. And he knew it was going to be a good time when it started with a note with orders.

Tony had to adjust his pants as he pushed the bedroom door open, hard just from thinking about what could possibly be waiting for him behind the door.

“Jet?” he called out softly in the dark room. “You said to come upstairs?”

“Yep.” Gibbs snapped the lamp on and Tony couldn’t help himself. He gasped loudly. Gibbs was dressed in his Marine Gunnery Sergeant uniform again, the one he’d worn at the Marine Recruiting Center when he was undercover as Marine Gunnery Sergeant Alvin Thomas. Tony’s eyes darkened with lust and his cock hardened – the exact same reaction he’d had when Gibbs had first put his uniform back on.

“Fuck,” he swore admiringly.

“I saw your face and your cock that day,” Gibbs said.

“God,” Tony blushed. “I couldn’t help myself. All I could think of was that I needed to slowly peel that uniform off you, kiss and lick and bite you all over, and then have you fuck me until I’m screaming about how much I want to join the Marines.”

“You may address me as Gunny,” Gibbs told him.

“Yes, Gunny,” Tony grinned his cocky grin, stroking the bulge in his pants. “Gunnery Sergeant Alvin Thomas?”

Gibbs nodded. “You interested in joining up?”

“Yes, Gunny,” Tony said, his heart rate and breathing accelerating. “What do I need to do?”

“Sit and tell me what you’re interested in,” Gibbs gestured to the bed. “There are plenty of different opportunities in the Marines.”

“I was thinking I could be the next Hathcock.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and snorted again, breaking character. “The Biography channel, Tony? I went to four different bookstores to get you that book you wanted. And you told Kate you learned it from the Biography channel?”

“She doesn’t even think I can read, Jet. Why would she believe that I actually read a book on Hathcock? Damn. I should have told her my Hathcock joke. You know? What did Shakespeare say about…”

Gibbs shook his head. “You shouldn’t just let her think you’re illiterate,” he interrupted.

“She’s already made up her mind about me and I don’t give a shit as long as we keep our solve rate up. And we’re in the middle of something here. I don’t want to keep talking about Kate.”

Gibbs gave an apologetic grin and gestured with his hand for Tony to get back to their game.

“You mind if I get more comfortable, Gunny?” Tony said huskily, fingers on the buttons of his shirt.

“By all means.”

The younger man slowly unbuttoned his shirt, watching Gibbs’ pupils dilate as he bared his chest and shrugged out of both the shirt and his empty shoulder holster. For a split second, Gibbs could see hesitation in Tony’s eyes, and he knew that the young man was contemplating folding his shirt and putting it in the laundry basket, and he laughed out loud, eyes twinkling, quirking an eyebrow at him, daring him to live a little.

Frowning at his boyfriend, Tony let the shirt and his holster fall to the floor in a heap before he gave him a look.

See? His eyes told Gibbs. I can be messy. I can leave my stuff on the floor. But then his eyes flickered back to the clothes on the floor and back to Gibbs, looking a little wild.

Gibbs snorted with laughter. “Get over here and let me pull your pants off you before you have an aneurysm about leaving your shirt on the floor.”

Tony grinned at him, loving that Gibbs knew him so well. Slowly he walked over to him, letting his hips sway seductively, one hand playing with a nipple, teasing it to a hard nub, while the other slowly unbuckled his belt.

Gibbs grabbed him and pulled him close, kissing him, fisting a hand in his hair, and rubbing the other on Tony’s other nipple, tweaking it into a hard pebble, swallowing Tony’s moans as the younger man melted into his body, grinding himself onto his thigh. Gibbs smiled. He loved how Tony surrendered himself fully to him when they kissed. He loved the sounds that Tony made, moaning right into his mouth, refusing to pull away even to breathe at times. He just loved the young man, more and more, as the years went by. And he wanted to bring them back together, to remove whatever distance Tony had been trying to establish between them, to reassure his insecure boyfriend of his feelings and his commitment.

Slowly, he moved his hand down, feeling the hard muscles of Tony’s six-pack abs twitch as his fingers ghosted over them, dipping gently into his belly button and then moving to undo his pants and lower his zipper. He thrust his hand into Tony’s pants, curling his fingers around Tony’s hard dick, smiling as the young man moaned again. Then he pushed Tony onto the bed, smiling wickedly as the young man stared up at him with desire. He pulled Tony’s pants off, threw them aside carelessly, and moved him up the bed, up to the pillows before he covered him with his fully uniformed body, kissing him hard.

Tony’s hands were everywhere, his back, his shoulders, the back of his neck, in his hair. And then the younger man’s legs went around his waist, arching his body, rubbing his throbbing cock against Gibbs’ cloth-clad erection, and his hands were kneading his ass under his pants.

“I thought you were going to undress me slowly, kissing, licking and biting me as you do it?” Gibbs said huskily. Abruptly, he found himself on his back, Tony straddling him, still rubbing their hardness together, still kissing him thoroughly. Tony pulled back, smiling, and slowly he proceeded to do just that, fingers lingering over the broad expanse of the muscular chest as he slowly peeled his Marine out of his uniform, lips, tongue and teeth following his fingers, his touch eliciting sighs, moans and half strangled groans as he undressed Gibbs, ever so slowly.

When Gibbs was naked, Tony licked and nibbled at his cockhead, causing the older man to arch up into his mouth. Tony pinned his hips down with his hands and proceeded to tease him – breathing his hot breath on Gibbs’ rock hard dick, smiling as it pulsed and throbbed, sliding his index finger up the swollen vein, barely touching his skin, and tantalizingly licking him like a lollipop instead of taking him into his mouth and wrapping his lips around the shaft, as Gibbs was begging him to do.

Finally tired of being teased, Gibbs flipped them over again, putting himself on top of the younger man.

“What’s going on here, Gunny?” Tony asked, green eyes wide with supposed innocence.

“Tease,” Gibbs growled at him, slipping a lubed finger into his ass.

“You like it,” Tony moaned, clutching Gibbs’ shoulder and opening his legs wider. “Oh god, please,” he breathed when Gibbs slipped a second finger into his tight passage, loosening him.

Without lingering, Gibbs quickly prepared Tony’s body before he pushed his knees up to his chest and lined himself up, letting Tony lube his cock up for him. He pushed through and moaned when his cockhead breached Tony’s tight ring of muscles. He drove himself deep and wrapped Tony’s legs around his waist so he could lean down and claim his lips.

“So close,” he gasped. “Already so close.”

“Then let’s go, Navy Guy. Fuck me. Fuck me hard – _ohhhh_ ,” Tony moaned as Gibbs started doing just that, starting off with long, slow strokes. “Harder,” he begged, meeting Gibbs’ thrusts, squeezing him tight. “Need you. Fuck. Please.”

Barely holding on to his control, Gibbs began thrusting into his body, hard and deep, going faster and faster. “This what you want?” he growled. “This why you want to join the marines, Tube Socks?”

“Right there, there, god…don’t stop,” Tony moaned when Gibbs began driving into his prostate.

“Why do you want to join the Marines?”

“For you, Gunny. Only for you,” Tony panted.

Gibbs began pounding him hard, drinking in his wild moans. “Scream my name,” he growled, fisting Tony’s rock hard dick in time to his thrusts.

Lost in the sensations, Tony clung to Gibbs, feeling his balls draw up, his toes curl, and his muscles contracting.

“I want to hear you scream my name,” Gibbs snarled, feeling himself lose control and thrusting brokenly into the young man.

It was too much for Tony. He came hard, screaming Gibbs’ name. And in a flurry of short, hard, thrusts, Gibbs found his own release with a gasped epithet before he moaned Tony’s name softly into the convulsing man’s ear.

When the orgasmic tremors subsided, he pulled out and flipped them over so Tony was sprawled on his chest, still panting hard.

“Shit, Gunny,” Tony finally found his voice again. “That was something else.”

Gibbs smiled and pulled him close, kissing his hair. They stayed in each other’s arms until they were fully recovered. “Weren’t you supposed to scream your reasons to join the Marines while I fucked you?”

“I thought you belayed that order when you told me to scream your name instead.”

Gibbs chuckled softly. “Why’d you scream Jet instead of Alvin?”

Tony grinned sheepishly. “Oops. I was too far gone I guess.”

“Fair enough.”

After a moment, Tony started to sit up. “I should get back downstairs and finish making our dinner,” he said softly.

“Wait,” Gibbs told him, kissing him until the younger man was boneless against him again.

When they stopped for air, Tony smiled, humming happily at him. “You make me want to say, screw dinner, so you can screw me again.”

Gibbs chuckled. “You’re insatiable.”

“You know it.” Tony sighed, putting his head down on Gibbs chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, idly playing with one of Gibbs’ nipples.

“Honey,” Gibbs began.

“Hmmm?”

“I’ve been thinking about something you said.”

“What?” Tony raised his head, suddenly suspicious.

“I think I know what the problem is.”

“Who says there’s a problem?”

“Hear me out. When I took my vest off and you got so mad at me – and don’t start, I’ve already agreed with you that I shouldn’t have done that and that you were right to be mad at me – but you said something. It’s stuck in my head.”

“What did I say?”

“You said that I thought you were emotionally stunted and not worth my time. Which is completely untrue. I love you, honey. That makes you always worth my time. Even if you can be emotionally stunted at times.”

Tony punched his arm making him gasp and laugh.

“But more importantly, you said you had no claim on me.” Gibbs cupped Tony’s face and waited until he finally looked up, meeting Gibbs’ steady blue gaze. “You said you had no claim on me. Not true, honey. Far from the truth. I love you. You have my heart. We’ve been seeing each other for almost three years. You know practically everything about me, and I know practically everything about you. So you can’t say that. You do have a claim on me. And I have already claimed you. Years ago. Deal with it.” Gibbs kissed him, a sweet, tender, loving kiss, claiming him with his actions as well as his words.

After a long moment of silence, Tony cleared his throat awkwardly. “You’ll get tired of me. Because I _am_ emotionally stunted.”

Gibbs sighed. “Is that why you’ve been pulling away from me?”

Tony shrugged, refusing to meet Gibbs’ eyes.

“Honey, I’m not going to get tired of you.”

“Why not? Everyone does.”

“I’m not everyone. And because I love you for who you are. Not who I want you to be,” Gibbs said softly. “And that means I even love the fact yes, sometimes you really can be emotionally stunted. But I’m in this with you. And we’ve been together a long time now, Tony. So yes. You have a claim on me. You always will.”

“So are you saying that you’re m-my b-boyfriend or something?”

Gibbs smiled at him. “Yup,” he nodded.

“Oh,” Tony said hesitantly. “OK then.”

“OK then.”

Tony leaned down and kissed Gibbs thoroughly.

“Do you really get what I’m saying?” Gibbs asked him.

Tony nodded, smiling a sweet, shy smile, and blushing profusely. “I think so.”

“You belong to me,” Gibbs said possessively. “But that also means that I belong to you.”

Tony’s blush deepened.

“Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“We good now?”

“We weren’t before?”

“Honey…” Gibbs said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, we’re good now.”

“You won’t try to run away from this?”

Tony shook his head.

“Promise?”

The young man nodded.

“Feeling nauseous? Gonna throw up on me?”

Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I have to check about these things,” Gibbs teased him, smiling as Tony kissed him again.

“I’m not gonna throw up,” Tony said softly. “I might break out in hives and hyperventilate later. But right now I’m OK.”

“Great. You have a problem, we can talk about things. You know that right?”

He nodded again.

“Good. Because I don’t want to have to keep having to treat you like a dumbass.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah. Although you might have to wear your uniform again. That was hot.”

Gibbs chuckled and nodded. “OK then.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each for long moments, before Gibbs pulled Tony down for another kiss. “I can’t resist you when you look at me like that,” he groaned, putting Tony’s hand on his hardening cock.

And as things started to heat up again, Tony found himself a little distracted by Gibbs’ words. Even when Gibbs was balls deep inside him again, taking him from behind, all Tony could hear were Gibbs’ words. Loving. Belonging. Claiming. And when he couldn’t think anymore and was moaning “yes,” repeatedly, it wasn’t just to the dick thrusting into him, taking away his ability to reason, but also to Gibbs’ words. Yes to love. Yes to belonging. And yes to claiming.

He had a claim on Gibbs. And that felt right. And made him feel good. He didn’t need to run away anymore. He was exactly where he wanted to be and with the person he was supposed to be with. And that felt right, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The music I listened to to write this includes:  
> * [What Am I To You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBseZ6y7hDQ) (Norah Jones)  
> * [How Can I Fall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMazj3o8bKQ) (Breathe)
> 
> A cookie for QueeneoftheDeer who predicted bits of this chapter in her comment from Chapter 1. I swear, this was already written before you commented! :D
> 
> Thank you for your kudos and comments!  
> -j  
> xoxo


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